


Noctis Claritate

by SirLadyScripts (SirLadySketch)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Because FFXV is a great series when you want to be sad, Bittersweet Ending, Dealing with Noct's Death, Gen, I tried to make this as sad as possible and I'm not sure if I got it or not, Post-Canon, Royal Pack Expansion has now made this canon divergent WHOOPS, Wakes & Funerals, also I wrote this with OT4 in the back of my mind but there's no overt mentions of relationships, canon ending, spoilers for the end of the game, vigil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 05:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14049873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLadySketch/pseuds/SirLadyScripts
Summary: SPOILERSIgnis could almost place the exact moment of Noct’s death-- not from some innate, magical connection of a Glaive to his King, but because there was a warm, gentle wind, and then for the first time in years, he felt the heat of sunlight upon his face.~~~A one-shot set immediately after the canon ending; the boys have to figure out how to deal with their grief while dealing with everything else. Ignis suggests a vigil and private wake between friends.





	Noctis Claritate

Ignis could almost place the exact moment of Noct’s death-- not from some innate, magical connection of a Glaive to his King, but because there was a warm, gentle wind, and then for the first time in _years_ , he felt the heat of sunlight upon his face.

The sensation was so odd, so _off_ from what he’d come to expect, that for a moment Ignis was afraid that Ifrit had returned, that he’d been knocked out and awoken amidst a battle. But this wasn’t the roaring heat of an angry god, it was the gentle caress of a early summer’s afternoon, with just the hint of asphalt and city smells carried on a gentle breeze. There wasn’t an angry snarl of fury and pain, but an all encompassing quiet, a heavy silence that filled the void where once there had been the angry murmurs of distant daemons and unhappy beasts.

It reminded him of the tombs of the Lucian Kings.

And then the memories replayed, Ardyn mocking them from the throne, Noctis, determined to put an end to all of it, no matter the cost. The sudden dizziness as a spell overtook him, rendering him senseless, incapable of helping Noctis in his final stand. Noct helping them gather themselves after defeating Ardyn in the mortal plane, and Noct’s footsteps echoing up the citadel steps as he made his final ascent towards the throne room.

 _Noct_. Ignis choked on that thought, and he could hear Gladio and Prompto beside him, their sharp intakes of breath as the light returned to the land and their distraught exclamations as the shiver of magic rolled over them, and the feel of something within fading that left them as empty as the citadel’s courtyard. All of these things, and his own, inner sense of dread, confirmed the passing of the king.

He could not fathom how long they stood there, waiting-- for what, a miracle? Some last minute pardon from the gods? For Noct’s return, despite all signs that indicated he’d been successful in his mission? If there was one thing he’d learned in the long past ten years, it was that seeking mercy from the Astrals was a fool’s errand.

He cleared his throat and mustered the strength to speak, trying to keep his voice light as he spoke to his companions. “Shall we, then?”

They moved slowly, up the multitude of steps towards the entry of the citadel, although whether it was a result of war-weary bodies or hearts burdened with sorrow, he couldn’t say. He recalled again how remarkably intact the interior of the building seemed-- musty, of course, but the floor was relatively free of debris, and with some open windows and a quick cleaning, the place could easily become the new headquarters for the world’s survivors.

Their footsteps echoed down the long corridors; they rode the elevator in silence. The air cleared as the doors opened, felt lighter on the lungs as they stepped out into the hallway that lead to the reception area. Of course, that was probably because Ardyn had blown out part of the roof in the throne room, allowing the cleaner air to drift inside, but it burned in his lungs as they made their way towards their destination.

...Apparently the door had been left ajar. The thought brought a sad smile to Ignis’ lips. Careless, perhaps, but typical Noct. Of course, he’d known they’d come up eventually, so perhaps it was one last mercy, leaving the door wide open so that the burden of being the first to see him would not be wholly Prompto or Gladio’s fate.

They all knew what to expect, of course, but he still heard Prompto and Gladio’s sharp intake of breaths, felt them stiffen as they undoubtedly looked upon the throne. He couldn’t see anything, of course, but he could imagine the sight; Noct sitting in his rightful place at last, slumped over in his final moments, finding a stillness in death that had eluded his restless spirit in life.

Prompto was the first to speak, voice tight, words falling out in staggered intakes of breath. “He.. he really... did it….” and the rest was lost in gentle sobs, quickly muffled as Ignis heard Gladio pull the young man into a hug. A moment later, Ignis felt Gladio’s hand on his cheek, smearing the tears that had rolled down his face without him even noticing. Gladio pulled him close as well, and they stood in silent mourning for the beloved friend and King, his final duty fulfilled.

They grieved in silence for some time, a heavy numbness falling over them as the tears fell away to exhaustion. Exhaustion from all the battles they’d fought to get to this point. Exhaustion for what was to come, because, as much as it didn’t feel like it now, life, inexorably, went on.

But what was a life without Noct?

“We’ll need to clear the perimeter, make sure that it’s safe,” said Ignis at last, the first to pull himself together enough to speak. For once, he was glad of the loss of his vision. To clearly see Noct in death would be to lose him again, tenfold. He’d had nightmares of seeing such a thing growing up; to see it in truth would be his undoing.

Gladio and Prompto shifted beside him, and Ignis could feel their restlessness. They all knew that, as much as they would like to linger and lament, their duty to the crown was not yet complete. They needed to touch base with the others, to see if they were en route with supplies. They needed to survey the city, to analyze the damage and determine what could be done to recover. They needed to make sure that the daemons were well and truly gone, dispatched with the death of Ardyn and the return of the sun.

Noct had done his part to restore the light; it was their duty to restore the world. But they needed to keep moving, because if they stopped now, they might never get up again.

“We can’t just _leave_ him there, not like… not like that,” said Prompto, voice tight and broken.

“I’ll do it,” Gladio said. At their hesitation, he turned, putting a hand on their shoulders. “Leave this to me. Iggy, see if you can get a signal out. Prompto, make sure we don’t get unwanted company.”

“Do you think there are still daemons out there?” Prompto asked, shuffling to his feet but unwilling to leave. “After… after what Noct did?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Gladio said, but he didn’t sound convinced, and he didn’t move either. Ignis could feel the weight of his phone in his back pocket, knew that Cindy and the other hunters were their best chance at a rapid deployment of supplies and engineers, but he made no move to take it out. Instead, he reached down and removed his gloves, tucking them into the vest pocket of his Kingsglaive attire, and cleared his throat.

“Perhaps… it might be fitting if we all attend him, this one last time,” he suggested, and Gladio gave a bark of laughter, although it had a telling roughness to it.

“Yeah, that works. He always did like getting fussed over.”

The path to the throne had crumbled during Ardyn’s occupation, but Gladio and Prompto managed to clear a path, assisting Ignis over particularly broken patches of marble. The throne itself was more or less intact, although there was a distinct crack of broken wood as Gladio pulled the sword free. Ignis and Prompto stood to either side, ready to catch Noct as he slipped down, no longer pinned to the throne.

His body was lighter than they’d remembered. He hadn’t really lost muscle tone, and by touch he appeared as he had before they’d… well, he hadn’t lost that much blood, but without the weight of life, the body just felt…. Empty. Maybe it was because it was three of them carrying him, or maybe using the ring’s power had somehow drained his physical body as well as his spiritual presence, but it took no effort to lift him from the throne, to carefully walk him down the steps, and to return him to the reception room.

It would have been more appropriate to carry him onwards to the royal chambers, perhaps, or to have brought in a table where they could lay him out properly, but all they had were the reception couches, firm, uncomfortable things that Noct had always complained felt like sitting on a bench. He probably would have complained no matter where they put him, but he’d have known they did their best with what they had, and he was never one for propriety anyway.

In the end, Gladio did manage to find a board long enough that they could form a kind of table for him, propped atop the backs of two of the couches, and Prompto scrounged up what had once been ornate curtains that they could use as a makeshift shroud. They had no candles, no hymns, no prayer books or idols, but sitting around the body of their friend in the chamber that had spelled his doom since birth seemed a fitting enough place for his closest friends to wait out the night. There would be time for the official, religious, and public ceremonies later. Tonight, it would only be those who knew him best.

They did get in touch with the others, and Ignis prepared a simple cold meal for them, although the food went mostly untouched. Gladio insisted that they raise a glass in Noct’s name, however, because “He wouldn’t want us sitting around, moping-- that’s his thing.” Perhaps it was foolish to drink on mostly empty stomachs, but Ignis and Prompto could find no fault in a toast, and so they raised a glass to their King, their savior, their companion, their best friend.

“So… do we just take turns at watch tonight?” Prompto asked when they’d managed to do everything they possibly could before turning in. Even the room had been tidied to their best abilities, considering their lack of cleaning supplies and light, but they were unable to settle their minds, not with all that had happened, and they knew that sleep would elude them tonight.

And yet it felt too unseemly to sit up and speak as though nothing had passed, and their hearts were too raw for fond rememberances. Those would come later, he knew in time they might speak more freely and remember fondly, but tonight… Ignis searched his memories, recalling a passage from an old text about the Mysteries of the Kings and their Glaives, and found a compromise for their situation.

“In the past, when a king fell--” and he took a breath to steady himself, waited until his voice was steady once again, “When a king fell, his glaives would stand vigil over the body of their liege until proper rites could be administered. Perhaps, tonight, we can honor the tradition, and in so doing, honor… Noct.”

He laid a hand on the shrouded figure, somewhere over Noct’s heart. “ _Vivat rex lucis_ ,” he said, and Gladio and Prompto brought their hands up as well, silent, because what more was there to say?

Then they took key points around the makeshift table, fell into quiet meditation, and the wake of Noctis Lucis Caelum began.

  
**-Prompto-**

It was hot, but not unpleasantly so, now that the sun had dipped behind the wall of buildings. The air hummed with the chirp of cicadas and the occasional ‘erps’ of frogs that leapt after low flying bugs. The breeze was fresh, the scent of newly cut grass and a hint of the water rolling along the riverbank was just enough to cover the more cloying smells of city life. The moon was just peeking over the fields in the park beyond, a hazy yellow orb rising from the clouds that hung low on the horizon.

Prompto snapped a picture, leaning back to see if he’d managed to get the shot he’d been waiting for. It was hazy, given how humid the air around him, but he was pleased with that effect, he could work with that. There was almost a watery quality to the picture, with details blurred out and colors muted to varying shades of purple shadows. He could heighten some of the levels when he got home, mess around with contrast and saturation on his PC to tweak it to its final composition.

“Dude, you’re still taking pictures of this place? Haven’t you gotten, like, every angle possible by now?” Noct slapped him on the shoulder before settling down beside him in the grass, flopping back to lay back and stare up into the sky. Prompto stuck out his tongue, then snapped a photo of the prince in his undignified sprawl, just to spite him.

“Gotta try all the lighting, too, man. The light changes during the day, you can get a completely different effect, tell a different story. Here, look,” he dropped down beside Noct and held out the camera, scrolling through the shots he’d taken throughout the day.

He pointed out the first one he’d taken, right after his morning jog, then skipped ahead to the one he’d been messing around with before Noct had interrupted. “You see? When the shadows move, and the light is sorta a different color, it gives you a totally new look.”

“I admit, you were right… for once,” Noct laughed at Prompto’s indignant squawk. “You always looked at the world differently from the rest of us.” Noct admitted, then turned to give him a smile cuffing him on the shoulder and leaning back to gaze up at the moon. “You’re gonna be an awesome photographer.”

“That’s the dream!” laughed Prompto, and he nudged Noct’s shoulder, causing the prince to turn. Prompto snapped another quick shot, then grinned in triumph as he appraised the stolen image. Noct gave him a wry smile, but his face turned contemplative as he mused aloud.

“Hey, promise me you won’t let them paint some weird, stuffy portrait of me, will you?” Noct asked, his voice and gaze suddenly intense. Prompto blinked, lowering the camera and trying to follow the logic.

“Wh-what, you mean, like, when you become king? Dude, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who’d have a say in that,” Prompto laughed, then tilted his head, thinking aloud. “Well, Iggy might actually have the final say in it, but I can put in a good word for you, if that’s what you want.”

“I want it to be one of your pictures,” Noct insisted, his eyes never leaving Prompto. “You always managed to make me look human.”

“I’m flattered, but I _really_ don’t think Iggy or your other councilmembers would approve of the official royal image being a snapshot, dude,” Prompto said, then skimmed through the later images on his camera, holding up one of his favorites. “Although nothing says ‘King of Lucis’ like a candid photo of you crying like a baby when you thought the chocobo was gonna bite you.”

“I told you to erase that!” complained Noct, but he laughed, wrestling the camera from Prompto. After a short tussle, Noct managed to grab it and held it at arm’s length, messing with dials and scrolling through the other images as Prompto attempted to save the other incriminating shots. After a moment, Noct relented and handed the camera back.

“This one,” he said, his voice taking on the weight of authority. Prompto snorted and looked down at the camera, surprised to see that it was one of an older Noct, the hint of a smile on his face as he turned to look at Prompto behind the camera.

Prompto remembered taking that picture. It had been a long, tiring couple of hours talking strategy on approaching Insomnia, debating which roads would be the safest route, how many units would accompany them to the perimeter, and if they could even _get_ to the city without alerting Ardyn of their presence. Noct had merely shrugged, saying that the chancellor had probably felt him wake up, so there was no point in anything other than a direct attack.

And then he’d ordered the meeting adjourned ‘due to boring meetings making him sleepy,’ and he’d turned to give Prompto a wink as Iggy went into a reserved but irritated rant about responsibilities and planning. They’d ended the meeting anyway, of course, and the four of them sat around the campfire like old times, quietly musing over nothing and slipping back into familiar patterns like it had been been days and not years since their last time together.

Prompto had snapped a photo as Noct chatted with Iggy and Gladio about their efforts working with the remaining Glaives, and the King had smiled at the mention of familiar names who were still fighting the good fight after all these years. He snapped another when the click of the camera caught Noct’s attention, capturing the image Noct had chosen for his portrait.

It was good, considering he didn’t really have a computer that would let him edit stuff any more, and Noct had been backlit by the fire. But the glow of the firelight outlined and softened the profile, and there was just enough light to make out the fond smile as Noct turned to face Prompto. He had to admit, it was a good picture. Probably the best he’d taken in a while, but any pictures of Noct would be good after ten years-- he’d missed his best friend more than words (or pictures) could express.

The same face looked at him now, so out of place in this memory out of their childhood that Prompto simply stared at him for a minute. Noct didn’t seem all that alarmed, though; he’d turned his attention back to the river, contemplating the frogs and ripples in the water.

“Did we ever catch anything in there? I can’t remember now,” he asked, then broke off as Prompto grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug, chest suddenly tight, eyes burning.

“Tell me it was a bad dream,” he begged, holding Noct close and closing his eyes. “Tell me you’re gonna be there when I wake up.”

“I mean… technically speaking I don’t think you’re asleep,” Noct said after a moment, but he brought his arms up around Prompto to return the hug. “Can you imagine what Iggy would say if he knew you fell asleep during my wake?”

“So… what is this, then?” Prompto asked, pulling back enough to look at Noct’s face, trying to burn the memory of it into his heart, knowing their time, even in this strange fractional memory, was fleeting.

Noct shrugged, taking in what should have been his city. Should have been, but this riverbank had probably been destroyed ten years ago, and more than half of her inhabitants lay buried in the rubble.

“I mean, I don’t think you’re asleep, but you’re probably not really fully awake yet, either. Maybe a meditative trance? Sounds better than zoning out,” Noct smiled and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “I won’t tell Iggy if you won’t.”

“So you’re just… what, a hallucination or something?” Prompto asked, feeling his throat tighten and his chest lurch. For a moment, he’d been able to forget everything, just remembering his friend and memories of happier times. Memories when the end was just a distant shadow on the future’s horizon, surreal and unimaginable. He shook his head and scrubbed at his eyes.

“I’m trying to come up with what might be happening but this is seriously one of the weirdest things I’ve ever experienced,” he said, and gave Noct a pointed look. “And that’s _including_ the time I shot my biological father in the head only to see him turn into a giant mecha worm.”

“I guess you can think of it as a last goodbye,” Noct said, regret in his voice. “I’ve gotta head out soon. But… you were always one of us, you know that, right? You helped me stay sane through all the rules and regulations, and made the days brighter.”

He clapped Prompto on the shoulder, giving him a fond look. “I need you there to keep them smiling, ok?”

There was…. So much to say. So much to say and do and tell him, but there wasn’t time. Prompto knew that, hated it, but… he knew that Noct knew what he needed to say, even if he couldn’t get the words out properly. Instead, he scrubbed an arm across his face and forced himself to smile.

“One last selfie?”

Noct laughed, and leaned in, taking the camera and holding it out to catch them both in the frame. “Yeah, of course.”

The sun was coming up-- and wasn’t _that_ just messed up dream logic-- and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get the shot since the lighting and angle would be all wrong, but somehow, when he looked down to see what they’d gotten, it was _perfect_. His only regret was that when he looked up, he wasn’t able to show it off; Noct was gone.

  
**\- Gladio -**

“Like I said, I’ve gotta go do something,” he told them, studying their faces. Prompto looked like he wanted to interrupt, but Gladio gave him a look that quieted him before he spoke up. “It’s personal, and no, I’m not gonna tell you, so don’t bother asking. Watch over the princess for me til I get back.”

“Will you be long?” Ignis asked instead, probably already figuring out what he had planned. But he didn’t try to dissuade him; Iggy was nothing but practical, and knew an immovable object when he came up against it.

“Shouldn’t take more than two weeks, I think,” he replied, and, because he appreciated what Iggy was thinking but not saying, he reached out and patted the man on the shoulder. “The Marshal will update you if that changes.”

“Hmm,” said Ignis, not sounding all that convinced, but he stepped back, giving Gladio a slight nod. “Best of luck, then. We’ll watch for your return.”

It helped not having a lot of stuff to pack up, but it still took some time to gather what supplies he figured the group could spare (they had Iggy, and besides, the Cup Noodles were his, damn it.) He’d even managed to pack it up into a fairly tidy bundle, and arranged for a ride with the merchant first thing in the morning.

“Hey, Gladio, wait up!” Noct called, jogging over to catch up with him as he started walking from the shack. “You got a sec?”

“I’ve got places to be,” Gladio replied, his mind already trying to calculate how long it would take him to get to the rendezvous point from the merchant’s delivery spot without the luxury of the Regalia. Probably would be worth renting a chocobo. Which reminded him… “Didn’t you promise to look over Prompto’s latest batch of pictures?”

“It’ll just take a couple of minutes,” Noct promised, tagging along anyway.

“I’ve gotta do this, Noct. Whatever you’ve got to say, you’re not gonna change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Noct promised, hand over his heart. He stayed in step with Gladio, though, walking around the Cape grounds as Ignis and Prompto went back to the house to help Iris and Talcott with dinner. Gladio snorted and shook his head, but let the prince follow along as he continued down his supply checklist.

“Ah whatever, sure, knock yourself out. If you try to follow me tomorrow morning, though, _I’m_ gonna knock you out and leave your unconscious body for Iggy to deal with.”

“Augh, gross, do you honestly think I’d wake up early?” Noct asked, and Gladio laughed despite himself.

“What’s on your mind, Princess?” he asked, summoning his shields from the Armiger to check for damage and wear. Satisfied, he dismissed them and moved on to the swords, and pulled out a whetstone when one of them failed to pass muster. He settled down on one of the discarded boxes and gave Noct a curious look before he started sharpening the blade.

Noct settled down on a nearby rock, watching the slide of the stone against the blade with idle curiosity. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Noct finally spoke up, his voice calm and surprisingly mature.

“I just…. You know no matter what happens, I still have to die, right?” Noct asked, and the stone screeched against the blade before Gladio lifted it away. He turned sharply, nostrils flaring with anger as Noct bluntly voiced the unspoken truth they’d all had to live with, day in, day out.

Noct didn’t seem all that worried, though. If anything, he looked a little sad, but put on a smile. “I mean, I know you’ve gotta go do what you’ve gotta do, but in the end… I’ve gotta do what _I’ve_ gotta do, you know? You can’t protect me from this.”

“Don’t you say that!” snarled Gladio, springing from his seat and surprising Noct with a shove that had him up against a tree, toes barely touching the ground. “I don’t care if the Astrals tell you you’re gonna ascend to godhood, you’re not fuckin’ dying on my watch.”

“You knew it from the start!” gasped Noct, struggling against the grip. “That’s the whole point of this trip! I have to save the world!”

“Why bother keeping you alive if you got a shit attitude like that?” Gladio said, but the anger was fading, the hollow emptiness in his chest threatening to overwhelm him. He loosened his grip on Noct, letting the prince slide down the tree. He brought his hand up to press them against his eyes, willing the tears not to fall. “There’s _always_ a way, damn it. You’ve gotta fight! And when you know you’re not strong enough, you go and you train until you _are_ strong enough. _I’ve_ gotta be strong enough. I _will_ keep you safe.”

“Gladdy, your strength saw me through to the end,” Noct said, and Gladio looked up to see Regis, or at least a shadow of him reflected in the tender expression of the man who stood before him. It was gentle, sad-eyed King who reached out and pulled Gladio’s head to his shoulder, providing what solace he could to the taller man. “You kept me safe so I could see my fight through, so I could finish it. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to watch my back.”

“What kind of Shield outlives his King?” Gladio asked, the question he’d grown up his whole life dreading, the one bit of advice his father had never been able to give. Even the Marshal hadn’t been able to advise him, so he dealt with it the only way he knew how: Get stronger, fight back, never give up.

But in the end, he wasn’t strong enough.

“You know, someone once told me that, properly cared for, swords and shields are meant to last generations,” Noct replied at last, his tone light, almost playful. “That they exist to help people, and that even if the first person who fought with them falls in battle, they can still help those who remain. I think it was supposed to be a lecture about caring for training equipment when I accidentally left a javelin out in the rain, but the sentiment is what counts, right?”

Noct pulled away, hand still firm on Gladio’s shoulder, and gave him what was probably supposed to be a stern, commanding look.

“You’ve gotta promise me that you’ll stay strong and help the others, now that I’ve had to take a knee. Don’t be _reckless_ ,” he warned, but a bit of a smile broke through, despite his efforts, “but someone’s gotta keep Iggy in line when he starts reorganizing the entire world. You _know_ people are gonna try to take potshots at him if he tries to make everyone eat their vegetables.”

Gladio stared down at the man he’d devoted an entire lifetime to, a man who’d grown from a whiny, spoiled child to… well, still a whiny and spoiled but overall pretty decent guy. A man who was not without his flaws, but whose virtues always won out in the end, and endeared even the hardest of hearts.

A man who, despite a rough beginning, had become his best friend.

“I know you’ve got stuff you’ve gotta do, so I’ll leave you to it. I gotta go help Specs, but I wanted to talk to you before you headed out.” Noct smiled. “Take care of yourself, ok?”

He moved to fist-bump Gladio, but the Shield caught the fist and pulled Noct in for a proper hug.

“You _idiot!”_ Gladio growled, tears in his eyes. He could feel the dream shifting; suddenly it was dawn and the merchant woman honked the horn of her pickup truck, letting him know she was ready to go. Gladio only looked away for a minute, but Noct hadn’t been there when he’d left to go meet up with the Marshal, and the Noct of this vision had already slipped away, fading into the shadows with a final wave. Gladio watched after him long after he was gone, the rest of the dream starting to fade away as he could feel himself waking up.

“I’ll keep them safe,” he promised, not knowing if Noct could still hear him or not. “I’ll be strong, for you.”

 

**\- Ignis -**

“No matter how much you try to disguise things, I’m not gonna eat them, Iggy.”

Ignis, startled from his work, dropped the knife he’d been using to chop carrots for the prince’s stew. Still, he recovered quickly enough. He picked up the cutting board and slid the chunks into the pot, which gurgled with the new additions.

The beauty of stew was that once you had the ingredients in it was mostly a matter of waiting around, and while he had a choice selection of ingredients he usually used, there were no hard and fast rules. He’d planned on adding more vegetables before Noct returned, of course, but given that the prince was likely to pick around them anyway, there was no harm in letting it simmer without the rest.

He turned down the heat and set the cover on to let it cook, then wiped his hands on a towel, cleaning the sink area before walking over to the living room. Noct lounged on his couch, mussing the pillows and kicking his feet up on the table that Ignis had spent all afternoon cleaning. Ignis tsked, then walked over to shift Noct into a proper sitting position so he could place a mug of coffee down in front of him.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he admitted, although he could trace Noct’s path easily enough by following the trail of shed clothing and dropped items back to the entry hall. “You finished your studies early, then? I do hope you’re prepared for what’s ahead of you.”

“Prom has what he needs, Gladio’s gonna be ok without me,” Noct promised, then grinned up at Ignis. “What about you? You have everything _you_ need?”

“I _need_ just a bit more time, that’s all. You finished up too soon, I was caught unprepared,” Ignis replied, turning on his heel to head back into the kitchen. He could handle the dishes, at least, while the stew cooked, and then he could get to tidying the place up again, once Noct started eating. He gave Noct a meaningful look, and gestured to the jacket that lay on the floor. “You _could_ at least keep the place tidy. Honestly. What would you do if I wasn’t there to pick up after you?”

“ _Iggyyyy_ ,” Noct complained, but he didn’t bother getting off the couch. Instead, he reached forward and sipped the mug of coffee, and grinned over the rim. “Just think of how _bored_ you’d be without me around.”

Ignis’ scrubbing faltered, a strange pang in his heart at Noct’s words. Noct was being an idiot, of course. Ignis knew that, for better or worse, his life was devoted to the prince-- one day, the king-- and that so long as Noct was around, there would always be some mess to tidy, some task to complete, some bit of nagging to give. He could hardly find the time to be _bored._

“Seriously, though, what would you do if you didn’t have to babysit me all the time? Do you even have any hobbies that aren’t tied back to dealing with me?” Noct asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Ignis fought back the flippant ‘of course!’ at the tip of his lips, and leaned against the counter to actually consider the question. What _would_ he do if he could take some guilt-free vacation time, knowing the Prince was taken care of?

“I suppose I would travel a bit beyond the Wall, should relations with the Empire remain relatively peaceful,” he said at last, thinking aloud as he considered his options. “See the sights, try different dishes, spend time catching up on leisure reading.”

“Iggy, those are boring _adult_ hobbies,” Noct complained. “Seriously, you need to try something _fun_ , let loose a little! Augh, I might need to pull Prompto in on this, help you get the stick out of your ass.”

“Some of us enjoy sampling our country’s history and culture,” replied Ignis, bringing a fresh pot of coffee over to the table before sitting down beside Noct. He refilled Noct’s cup before preparing one for himself, then sat back to savor the hot, rich flavor. “I suppose you would spend your time sleeping a vacation away,” he mused.

“I’m done with sleeping,” Noct said, sounding uncharacteristically serious. “I’d spend any free time I had left with you guys. Apart from that…. I dunno, nothing else really seems all that important, you know? I mean, fishing is great, but… I’d wanna hang with you guys for as long as possible, I think. No responsibilities, just… us.”

“Hmm,” Ignis said, tapping the rim of his cup as he imagined laughter around campfires, card games atop squeaky hotel beds, days under the sun riding a chocobo, or good-natured fighting about why Ignis gave into Noct’s request for Oyako Don Buri 8 nights in a row. He smiled, remembering those times with fondness. “I can hardly disagree with that sentiment. But you said ‘dealing’ with you as though it was a chore. I do hope you realize that while it is my job to serve you, it is also a pleasure.”

“You’re getting sappy and sentimental,” chided Noct, stretching out on the couch and leaning against Ignis for support. It was an unusually affectionate gesture, not one Ignis minded, but it seemed out of character for the usually taciturn prince.

“I am feeling a bit maudlin tonight,” Ignis admitted, setting down the cup and shifting so Noct could settle into a more comfortable slouch.

He brought up a hand to the top of Noct’s head, and when there was no complaint or move to brush it away, he indulged in running fingers through the Prince’s hair. It was a familiar, soothing gesture he’d used countless times in their youth when Noct suffered from nightmares that Carbunkle could not dispel, and in later times, when the trials of the road made it difficult to find sleep. Ignis knew Noct’s habits and gestures, probably better than the man knew himself, and while he would never outright say it, the prince did enjoy the comfort a familiar touch could provide.

Ignis smiled as he felt Noct lean into the touch. “It’s hardly a fair question, however,” he chided Noct lightly. “I’ll always be by your side, so long as you need me. I wouldn’t consider that such a terrible fate.”

“Like I said, you need a hobby,” Noct said, sighing against him. “But you’re a smart guy, I know you’ll figure something out. If nothing else, you can redirect your mother hen instincts to Prompto and Gladio, those two will need someone keeping them in order and making sure that they get enough rest and eat all their vegetables.”

“And you think they’ll be as dutiful as you are in that regard? They’re grown men, I could hardly get them to listen to an order they didn’t want to follow,” Ignis said, but there was a sudden hitch in his voice.

He knew Prompto and Gladio could take care of themselves, they had for years. The trio had split up out of necessity during Noct’s absence, helping people where they could, growing farther and farther apart as the world crumbled around them. Being with them again after all that time had been good, though, the four of them together after all that time. He would be happy to care for the two of them, if they let him, but it would never be the same-- _could_ never be the same as it had been during those happy times long ago.

“Prompto tried to use a phoenix down,” Ignis blurted out, and Noct tilted his head back to look at him, his light beard scratching against Ignis’ shoulder.

“Yeah?” he asked, then laughed, settling back against Ignis. “That’s stupid. Everyone knows their power is tied to the King and Crystal, and I’m pretty sure the stupid rock crumbled when I blasted Ardyn into smithereens.”

“You cannot fault him for hoping,” Ignis replied, then, voice barely a whisper, “We all had hope.”

“That can get you into trouble,” Noct laughed, then reached up to cup Ignis’ cheek in his hand. His fingers ran lightly over scars that usually failed to manifest in his dreams, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to fix this for you before I left.”

“The last thing I saw was you,” Ignis admitted, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “I am glad for that small favor, at least.”

“Some favor,” Noct said, and there was a hint of bitterness that surprised Ignis. “This could possibly get me into trouble or something, but…whatever. _Fuck_ the Astrals.”

Ignis laughed, despite himself. “Given the circumstances, I believe they would turn a blind eye to your blasphemy.” He paused. “Pun not intended.”

“ _That’s_ the Iggy I came to see,” laughed Noct. “Don’t ever change.”

“There is a bitter irony in the fact that in sacrificing your life to restore dawn to the world, the Astrals snuffed Eos’ brightest light,” Ignis replied.

Noct snorted at that, rolling off the couch and walking over to the window. “Ok, the mood’s getting way too dark in here,” he said, and pulled back the curtains to reveal the city below. Instead of the long shadows of evening, however, the first rays of dawn were breaking over the city, and Noct stood in the high window of the reception hall, Lucis’ last king surveying what remained of his kingdom. He turned and gave Ignis a wide grin, although it was hard to make out as Ignis stared into the growing light.

“I’m serious, by the way. Get a non-adult hobby for when you’re not taking care of Prompto and Gladdy. I’m counting on you,” he said, fading from view as Ignis squinted against the sun. “Oh! And Luna sends her best, too.”

“I will,” Ignis promised with a broken laugh, wiping away the tears that fell freely. “Take care, Noct.”

 

“You say something, Specs?” murmured a tired sounding Gladio, and Ignis looked over to see the large man stretching from what must have been a meditation pose held too long. Ignis could hear the cartilage crack, see the stiffness ease away as Gladio squatted and stretched away the long night.

Ignis watched, mind numbed from the dream, and wiped at his eyes, feeling the grit of dust and too many days with too little sleep fall away. His hands came away with a film of glitter-- perhaps the Crystal _had_ exploded, and he’d managed to get some of the dust in his eyes. And the sun was coming in at _just_ the wrong angle, and he squinted against it again, wondering where he’d put his glasses---

“Gladio,” Ignis said, voice deceptively calm as he tried to cobble together some sort of logical explanation, “Would you be so kind as to let me know if I am fully awake?”

“What, you want me to come over there and pinch you?” Gladio asked, incredulous, but he stopped, eyes focusing on Ignis when he realized Ignis wasn’t joking. “You alright, Iggy?”

“I… believe so, yes,” Ignis replied, getting to his feet with slow, deliberate movement. He blinked, rubbed at his eyes again, then scanned the room.

It was as he imagined it would be-- a dusty reception room slowly filling with early morning light, Gladio standing at attention to one side, Prompto blinking himself awake to the other, and between them, the shrouded Noct.

Ignis carefully walked over to the body, feeling more than ever like he was in a dream, and reached down to straighten the heavy fabric, smoothing out wrinkles and laying his hand over Noct’s heart.

“Iggy, can you….?” Prompto asked, and Ignis could _just_ make out the shape of him in the growing light. It wasn’t _completely_ back, but the shapes were there, more than they had been for ten years, and he gave a short nod, stepping away from the makeshift table after a final, grateful pat against the shape under the cloth.

“An unusual night,” he replied, turning to face them both. They were hazy but he could _see_ them, actually make out some features, and he had to wonder if it had been the blast from the Crystal or some final act of the Astrals in their fickle mercy. He closed his eyes, unable to take it all in. “I believed I gained some clarity in the night.”

Gladio stared at him a long moment, then his eyes shifted to the form behind him. “You too, huh?” he asked, then he shifted his attention to Prompto. “You have any weird dreams last night?”

Prompto frowned, still rubbing at red-rimmed eyes, but didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he knelt back down and rummaged around in his bag until he found his camera. Flicking it on, he thumbed his way to the end of the collection, then stared at the screen for a long moment before handing it out to them, wordless.

It was a photo of Prompto and Noct, backlit by an impossibly bright sky in an impossible location, given their ages in the photograph. Prompto and Ignis exchanged a look, then turned to Gladio, who held up his hands and shook his head.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I didn’t get anything weird, he just gave me a job.”

“Keep them smiling,” Prompto said, tightening his grip on the camera. “Oh, and make sure history books use the photo he chose for his official image.”

“Keep them safe,” Gladio said, scratching his chin in thought. “And stay strong to protect those who follow.”

“Get a hobby,” Ignis said, and it was Gladio and Prompto’s turn to stare. Ignis simply gave a rueful, sad smile. “Apparently my interests are too closely tied to my work. He also mentioned keeping you in line, and making you eat your vegetables.”

“What, like he did?” Prompto snorted, then sniffled, and ran a sleeve under his nose to stem off more tears. “Do you… think this was the Astral’s way of saying sorry?”

“Ain’t no amount of ‘sorry’ that’s ever gonna make up for this,” Gladio growled, crossing his arms across his chest and staring at his feet.

“I agree,” Ignis replied, pulling out his glasses and using them to block out the painful brightness of the room. “I’m afraid that if we encountered any of the Astrals right now, well...it would not be in anyone’s best interest, let us leave it at that.”

He paused, looking back at the table. The Glaives would be arriving within an hour or two, he was sure of it, and then their work would truly begin. But this was still their time, still their duty, and they would see it through to the end.

“Perhaps things will become more clear in the light of day?” He turned, and faced his friends, a faint glimmer of resolve in his heart. He had a promise to fulfil, after all. “Shall we discuss things over breakfast?”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Noctis Claritate: Clear Night, the Clarity of Noctis
> 
> Vivat rex lucis: Long Live the King of Light
> 
> Minor note 4/13/18 -- I wrote this before I played the Royal expansion, and imagine my surprise to find Glaives in the subway system. WHOOPS. Just roll with the idea that for whatever reason, the boys are left on their own for a night.


End file.
